She's All Right
by iheartmusic
Summary: For the sake of nostalgia. A DaveLane piece. Dave and Lane's relationship from Dave's point of view. CHAPTER 5 UP! Dance marathon- confessions and not enough sleep.
1. She's All Right

**Title:** She's All Right

**Author:** iheartmusic

**Disclaimer:** I hate disclaimers. You know I'm not affiliated with anyone. Not even Kirk.

**Summary:** A Dave/Lane piece in Dave's point of view. There aren't enough of those kinds, so I thought I'd try and write one since no one else would.

**Authors Note:** I'm not sure how long this story will be. Maybe I'll leave it one chaptered or I'll write many more. Please just let me know in your reviews. As long as I feel an obligation, I'll keep going. I also was having trouble with where everyone lives, so I just assumed they all live in Stars Hollow. **I redid the part about where they live. I decided they live on the edge of Stars Hollow, but go to Hartford. Dave takes an afterschool art class at Stars Hollow.**

* * *

David looked down at the Stars Hollow paper. It didn't carry much information. He was just looking through it, in hope for an answer. This band thing had been bugging him and Zach's frequent phone calling and Brian's anxiety running weren't helping. _Oh not again!_

Brian ran through their sliding door.

"I was just thinking, if we _don't_ get a drummer, I could always get my Uncle Bobby to play his computer drum simulator. He's got a laptop, so it'd be really easy. But it'd be a three hour commute, so I was thinking if we got up really-" Dave was usually very understanding, but he couldn't take Brian, running in with a new anxiety or crazy scheme every 5 minutes.

"SHUT UP! Honestly, I'm starting to hate living next to you."

"I can't help it. We've had to turn down 3 gigs already! It's not fair and then, people will start to talk. 'These people don't do gigs. Yeah they're destined to be a garage band forever.'" Dave sighed. He was starting to have this same fear.

"Calm down, Brian. Go home. Use your inhaler. Watch TV," Dave said in his soothing voice, "and I promise I won't let Zach harass you about watching Full House reruns." Dave was used to Brian. They'd lived next to each other for about 10 years. They lived on the edge of Stars Hollow, right by the road to Hartford. They all went to Hartford for school, but Dave took some extra-curricular classes at Stars Hollow, nightly. The town square was still walking distance, but they weren't exactly townies. He didn't usually do the town festivals and things. Zach lived in Hartford. Zach was Dave's best friend from rock'n'roll band camp. This was his special 12-year-old band camp that he'd saved for weeks to go to. It was definitely worth the money.

He was well practiced in acoustic guitar. His dad had taught him. His parents were his driving musical forces. They were so musically inclined. His dad was in a band that almost made it big in New York. His mother was a singer in another band. His parents met when her mother auditioned for the band. She didn't get in, they already had an amazing singer, but she got a date with the lead guitarist.

So naturally, Dave was an audiophile. He'd gone to band camp so he could play like Cobain.

His band was assembled over the summer. And Dave had to admit it, they were okay. Not the Clash. But okay. Their one problem so far was their lack of a strong beat. A strong beat…

Drummer with strong beat seeks band into the…

That was it! He should've gotten to it sooner. I mean the ad took up 4 times the space of a normal one. And so many bands… All of which, he knew and loved. And most of which, they'd already prepared covers for.

He looked back at the ad. _Lane Kim. _Well, he would definitely have to meet this Lane Kim.

* * *

"This looks good!" Brian was ecstatic at the next band practice.

"Yeah and look at all the bands she's into. She's perfect. This is really gonna work!" Dave was getting really excited in spite of himself. He had this thing where he got really excited and either babbled or talked really fast. He tried not to at most times.

"Dude, it would be so cool if she were hot. We would totally get way more fans that way. I mean, we gotta have more than one good looking person in this thing. And you know, that's what draws them in," said Zach, all pompous. Dave gagged while Brian giggled.

"So guys, I'll call her tonight," confirmed Dave, hardly holding back his smile.

"Totally."

* * *

"Hey. Um, yeah… I'm calling for the band thing. My name's Dave Rygalski. We have this pretty cool thing going so call me…" Dave felt hopeless. The message had just been so interesting with the David Bowie stuff that he totally forgot what he'd planned to say. He'd written a script and memorized. It had to be perfect. I mean, if he didn't make a good impression, there goes their drummer. "Yeah so here's my number… thanks a lot. Bye."

_Great._ Well, he couldn't call back. He'd just have to wait. Meanwhile, he could plan his next phone call. Should he go for musical references? Or would that be trying to hard?

He waited all day for a call_. I mean, even if she didn't want to be in the band, _he just wanted to talk to her…No call. He was not happy. He listened to _Quadrophenia_, his depressed music. He hung around, strumming his guitar to the song. He pulled out his Dad's band CD, off of his CD shelf. It was a book shelf but he renamed it the CD shelf, because he didn't use it for books. The top shelf had a record player, next to a boom box with surround. He liked the music all around him, like he was inside the song.

His equipment belonged to his dad, before he went corporate. His room had the best sound. When he was seven years old, he ran into this house and screamed in all his rooms and then insisted on playing a guitar solo, before allowing anyone to choose their rooms. "Good acoustics," he said.

He slid the CD in the disc changer. He heard his dad's familiar, guitar strokes and… he was still depressed. He defiantly turned it up louder. There was nothing that music couldn't cure.

He was not any happier when he picked up the phone to dial, but then, just as soon, the phone rang. It was his aunt, thanking him for doing a babysitting job, Dave could only assume, his mom had forgotten to tell him about.

The next day, he still didn't get a call. Okay, he would definitely call back if he didn't get a call by six.

* * *

"Hey. You've reached Suffragette City, and if you're calling about Lane Kim's ad, sorry, we're not in, but don't commit Rock N Roll Suicide! Just crank a message at the feedback!"

"Hey my name's Dave Rygalski. I'm calling about the ad. I left my number, _before_, so call when you get a chance."

"Where's my…"

"Relax, I'm coming!" God, Kathy. Pick now to need your Barbie. Damn cousin sitting duty.

* * *

At his afternoon class, Dave leaned over towards Janie. Art was fun. He was drawing a crying guitar. They were supposed to draw a would-be still life. They had to make an object to true form, but then characterize it. By random seating chart, he sat next to Janie Fertman. She was always twirling her hair, but she always seemed to know what was going on with everyone. She was known for her 30 second biographies.

"Janie, do you know a _Lane Kim_?"

"Yeah, totally. She's really nice. And if you like her, totally single. Pretty, smart, but her mom's a nut job. She was really fun as a cheerleader. Got us listening to some awesome music. The Black stripes or something…"

Cheerleader… Maybe she's high maintenance? But she got cheerleaders into the White Stripes; that's got to be pretty persuasive.

"What does she look like? You know any distinguishing factors?"

"You're clueless, aren't you? She's Lane Kim. You'd know her if you saw her. She always wears these rock t-shirts _over_ her normal clothes. I told her that if she was going for the rocker chick thing and wants people to buy it, she should totally get some bands that people have heard of, but it's useless. She lives on Elm, so she's always hanging around Luke's. And she always goes to town meetings. Do you like my daisy?" She was drawing a wide flower with a big smile on its face.

Dave smiled politely and said, "Yes. It's nice." Unoriginal but nice.

* * *

Dave didn't usually go out on the town square at this time of day in Stars Hollow. It was usually deserted because of the various activities going on around town. Tonight it was the town meeting. But Dave had a special purpose here.

He hung around for awhile outside, waiting for the meeting to be over. He heard some yelling about giant horses and thought it might be funny to go in and listen, but soon, there was a general burst of noise as people walked out of the dance studio, in loud conversation.

He spotted a group of young women. One of them, mid-30s, and the other two were about seventeen. She was little and seemed to be in catching-up mode. She was wearing a Dead Kennedys shirt and for a moment, Dave tried to picture her in a cheerleading uniform. Then he remembered she was a future band mate.

Well, he thought, I better go up to her.

"Excuse me. Lane?" he asked, smiling and holding out his hand. She shook it. She was really pretty. He was really happy all of a sudden.

"That's me."

"Okay. Great. I'm Dave Rygalski."

"Right, hi! You're a guitarist," she said. She seemed fascinated by this. He made some sort of jubilated gurgled noise as a reply. She was smiling. "But how'd you know I was me?" Well, I asked around…

"The Dead Kennedys shirt was a tip-off." Whoa, it was so cool. She started talking about Jello Biafra and his unfortunate replacement. She was fast talking and funny. "What's next? Urkel joining the Wu-Tang Clan?"

"Or maybe Malcom in the Middle fronting for the Butthole Surfers," he offered, in jest.

"Some things are sacred." Wow. She was all knowing, Nancy to his Sid. Actually, no. That would be bad.

"So, uh, what's your band like?" Oh god. Weigh your words wisely kid.

"We do a lot of cool covers- uh, the Clash, the Kinks, et cetera… Statistically, it's like thirty-eight of the forty-three bands you listed."

"Nice percentage." Great, now she knows you sat there counting. But she's smiling… She seems so… serene.

"I can play you a song we demo'd a couple of weeks ago, using a drum machine." Dave reaches into his bag and pulls out his amps and a walkman, along with other equipment.

"What's all this?" she asked, smiling.

"Well, this is a headphone amp and it just boosts the volume and makes the clarity off the hook, and then these are Grado 125s, which is just really, killer, killer portable sound," oh yes he was babbling again, "I'm sort of an audio geek, sorry." He was about to cringe.

"No, don't apologize I love you." Really? "For that, for being that way…" Now Dave couldn't help but smile. "Do you wanna go over by the bench and have a listen?" She was so cute, so nice, so smart and so musical. Even the way she laughed. He totally had his mind made up.

"Yeah."

"Okay." They made their way over to the bench. She seemed excited. He placed the headphones on her ears. "Yeah, this is _Should I Stay or Should I Go._ You know, the Clash? You'll have to bear with me on the fact that we seriously lack any rhythm as that drum machine is hard to maneuver with."

She listened, straight faced and her eyes glazed a little. She smiled and felt herself bobbing her head. _It's always tease tease tease, you'll have me when I'm on my knees… One day it's fine and next it's black. So if you want me off your back…_ She made drummer hand motions in the air. Then, she noticed that she was on a bench, with a very talented and attractive guy. She stopped abruptly. The song ended and she took off the headphones.

"Hey, why'd you stop drumming?" he said, with an amused air, "I mean, if we were in the middle of a set, we can count on you to keep drumming?"

"Well, I'm not usually being watched, when I listen to music… I mean, it doesn't really occur to me how stupid I must look…"

"You look good." Dave cringed again. "When you're doing that. You look happy, very calm, like you have no worries… I only hope you meant it…" He had done the babbling thing. Again.

"Yeah. I mean, it's so great. You're so great- you _guys_ are so great and if you want, I can, audition for you, that is if you like me or want me... as a drummer, I mean."

"I don't need an audition. I saw you during the song. You really thought it was good?"

"It's great, it really is." She was smiling and laughing again.

"Okay, cool. Well, listen, then I'll talk to the guys, uh and we can get together and play next week."

"Sure. Um, I've got to get home," she said with a look that was a mixture of panic, happiness and relief.

"All right, it was nice meeting you Lane."

"Same here." She'd gotten up.

Dave weighed the situation. This meeting was pleasant. They had their drummer, he was sure and she was pretty and… she was taking her shirt off. Dave sat on the bench staring, but then was silently relieved to see the shirt underneath that said, "Trust God." More than anything, to justify his staring, he said. "Trust God, is that a band?"

"No. My Life," she said as she walked away. He gazed after her, awestruck and slightly bewildered. _What does that mean? Did she just escape from a convent? Yeah. Right. _Well, whatever. Right then, Dave was in a blissful state. He'd met his drummer.

A lyric from a David Bowie song, came to mind. A classic_, Suffragette City_. _She's all right._


	2. Eternal Flame

**A/N: I'm totally not affiliated with anyone. I wanna thank everyone for your amazing reviews. You guys rock. Here's the second installment. Read more, write more. I want opinions. I wasn't sure how to write this awkward gap part between Dave and Lane meeting and the band. So if it sucks, I swear it will get better.**

**

* * *

**

Dave's head had been reeling ever since his encounter with the "little drummer girl", as his Aunt Louise called her. Aunt Louise was his favorite aunt on his father's side. She was a bassist in her day and a big partier. She was always bouncing and wearing her old "duds". She made frequent visits to Star's Hollow, about two or more times a week. She had a little kid. The Barbie-needing Kathy. She was a divorcé and had a live-in boyfriend in Hartford. Though she disapproved of her daughter's doll fetish, she helped her daughter out, by making tiny replacement outfits with band logos on them and occasionally stuffed some padding into the stomach of Barbie's shirt.

She was Dave's favorite aunt, because he could talk to her and admit things he'd never tell his parents. Like how, someday, he wished he could spend a month all by himself, in a cabin, faraway from anybody else, with no TV or internet. Maybe just his music collection, a guitar and a notebook, so he could get in touch with his muse, and really write. It had always been difficult for Dave to write something he could really be proud of.

Zach, had once made him play them one of his written songs, and spent two hours trying to convince him to let them use the song in a set. But no, it wasn't good enough. Until it could even begin to compare to the covers they did, they would not use it.

But lately, his writing hadn't been so forced. He would just sit down and write some lyrics and have them play in his head. He would just easily move them from his brain to his guitar strings. Softly, he would sing along. He felt lighter, like he was not weighted down with so much stress. He'd forgotten what it felt like.

He seemed a bit happier. For the next couple of days, he walked around with a glow. This hadn't gone unnoticed by Aunt Louise. "You look good, Davey."

"Thank you." He smiled and bowed.

"Incredibly happy, that's how you look. Insanely happy," she stated, reading his face. "Ah… you met a girl."

"No. I didn't," he said. She's a band member. And any relationship they may or may not have, _that is_, if he did like her, which he _didn't_… _Oh Crap_. He knew. Well he had known. But hadn't admitted it.

"What's her name? Is she pretty? Is she smart? OH MY GOD… she's musical, too. Most likely a… groupie. A creepy one like Sweet Connie? Didn't peg you for on of those guys… No, not a groupie. A rival band singer or weren't you looking for a… A DRUMMER. She's your drummer! Is she the one whose ad took up the entire _Gazette_?"

"Yes. That's her," he admitted. He was almost thankful that she'd deduced this all by herself. It saved him the trouble.

"Yeah, you guys are good for each other," she said, knowingly.

"You've never even met her!" he exclaimed, in surprise.

"Yes, but you're both extremely neurotic, yet very rock'n'roll. You can tell by the ad that she's the same way you are. I mean, alphabetical order and footnotes! But her band choice, impeccable and the way she starred David Bowie's name… She's perfect for you."

"All this, from an expression on my face," Dave sighed. She never ceased to amaze him.

"What can I say? The wheels are always turning."

* * *

"Hi, this is Dave Rygalski, I'm calling for Lane," he said in his most polite voice.

"Okay, listen kid. **First of all**, if you ever want to speak to Lane again, you don't call her with that sentence on your lips. Never _ever_, say your full name! In fact, you may want to disguise your voice and say your Marcia from Bible Study. And I'd wear a mask, while on the phone with her; you never know whose trailing you. And you may want to 67 it too, you never know whose tapping in. Because, once **Mrs. Kim** gets you, you're just about dead. She will crucify you. Dave, I'm telling you, you're just so lucky that she gave you her best friend's number. But I am telling you this so that in future, when she next sees you and gives you her house number, you don't let her mother bust her. Because if you do that to her, she might just reenact Kurt Cobain's death. And from the way you guys were getting along after the meeting, I'd say you wouldn't want that, and I swear, if you dare even try it, you can be sure that _someone_ in this town, will definitely have something to say on the subject." Dave was stunned. There was a silence and he realized that he was probably supposed to speak now.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"Sorry Dave. I don't think I've yet introduced myself. I'm Lorelai Gilmore. I'm Lane's friend, Rory's mom and I run an Inn, the Independence Inn. I saw you at the last town meeting, talking to Lane about the band," she seemed a lot nicer now, "I'm really glad that you, well, _exist_, because otherwise, Lane wouldn't have her band, and as you may have figured, music is the love of her life. We love Lane and we love to see her happy."

"I like to see her happy too," he admitted, with a smile in his voice, "though, I've never actually seen her sad. I imagine it's terrible…" His thoughts drifted to a small sad little Lane. He snapped back. "So her mom's really strict?"

"You know, she's just so afraid of losing Lane to this crazy, _sinful_, non-Korean, non-Christian society full of unwashed non-Korean boys. But don't let her scare you away from Lane, she's a great girl, she really is," she explained, sincerely.

"She is," he paused, "So I'm guessing she's not around."

"You guessed right. But I'll let her know you called."

"Thanks."

* * *

Luke's Diner was buzzing in the Saturday afternoon sunlight. Lane was a bit sad, but brightened when she saw her friend, Rory and her mother. She loved them both. They were so lively. They seemed to speak her language, besides that of music. It was a good little trio. _Books, music and movies._

Rory was just so easy to talk to and Lorelai was just so… free. She was like an extension of her usual best friend. The part of her best friend who wasn't always in the books and could scream about a piece of music. They waved and beckoned her over to their usual table.

"Hey Laney!" Lorelai yelled, with her mouth full, "Did you see the MOJO special last night?" Luke walked towards the table, with another cup of coffee, which he placed in front of Lane.

"It was great! It was focused on how to be a rock star without killing yourself or something… I taped it for you," said Rory.

"Thanks so much!" said Lane.

"Speaking of music, Dave called. He knows about the mom and I think he's fine with it," said Lorelai, "and he seemed to really be feeling the drummer chick idea, if you know what I mean…" Lorelai winked slightly obnoxiously.

"What'd he say?" Lane found it a bit hard to believe that Dave was cool with the fact that her mother might just murder him if she caught him even so much as _talking_ to Lane. _Well, he was amazing._

"Well, he called and with this fake-o, 'This is Dave Rygalski' thing. And I told him if he wanted to be allowed to talk to you, he better not talk that way to your mom. I recommended that he change his name to Marcia from Bible study. Then he asked about _how strict_ your mother is and I gave him a basic overview without the gory details and honey, he seems to really want you in this band. He actually seemed willing to incur the wrath of your mother. Something, I probably would have to consider first," she said, "but Dave seems like such a nice guy. I'm totally looking forward to you guys getting famous and touring with U2." Lane glowed a little and sipped her coffee.

* * *

"Hello?" _Click_. Okay, this was so annoying. Someone was prank calling Dave. He guessed it was Zach. Why couldn't he just play video games? Or was it funny to make him angry by making him pick up and put down the phone every few minutes?

Ring. Ring. Ringgggg… No. He was not going to fall for it again. Rrrrrriiiiiinnnnnggggggggggggg! Okay, fine.

"Hello? Now don't-"

"Hi, is this Dave? This is Lane. You know, Lane Kim? With the ad and the Dead Kennedys shirt? We met outside the dance studio. Well, yeah, even if you don't remember, um, you called. So…" She sounded a little shaky, with some insane idea that he didn't remember her.

"Hi Lane. Of course, I remember you. You're the girl who does a mean air drum solo. Very cool, I'd love to see how you are at lip synching… I'll bet you're a regular Milli Vanilli. Yeah, I wanted to ask you about when you'd like to play with us…" Oh my god. He could just imagine the snickers that would come out of Aunt Louise if she heard him saying "play with us."

"Well, Monday, we have a three hour block of time, when my mother goes out to Hartford to find antiques and track them down. And on Wednesday, my mom has her choir practice and on Friday, she has her usual Bible Study and tea. I'm free all that time and usually on the weekends, but Saturday more than Sunday, for apparent reasons." Wow, Lorelai wasn't kidding.

"Well, I guess Friday would be best for all of us, but we don't really have a practice space. I mean, sometimes we practice at my house but our basement's being renovated and Zach's mom and dad fill up their garage with a load of crap that they don't want to move and Brian… well, you'll see when you meet Brian." Lane smiled. He was so warm. It was like he was welcoming into a secret club. Not everyone could be in this band. This was special. They'd picked _her,_ she was deemed cool enough, god forbid, _Moon_y enough to be their drummer.

"Well, I actually _can't_ play the drums or any other non-Christian music inside the house, while my mother is anywhere within a 10-mile radius, so it won't be possible to practice in the Kim house," she said. _Oh my god. I'm so stupid_._ Like anyone's ever going to care that I can drum to _Smells like Teen Spirit_ if there's a possibility my mom will slaughter them._

Well there was no way she could pretend like her mother weren't the scariest person in her life. "I'm sorry. My mom's a bit… well a lot, overprotective. In fact, she hates boys, rock music, parties, American values and flashy clothing."

"Well, it's just too bad about the flashy clothing," he joked. Inwardly, he wondered whether that would be seen as an implication or not. She laughed, so all seemed fine. "No, it's completely cool about your mom. Just as long as you don't get yourself into huge trouble for being in this. I mean, if this is going to hurt you or your mother…"

"No, of course not. And I can't be pushed around forever, can I?" Lane seemed as if she were trying to convince herself.

"Well, as long as you think it's okay… Because I wouldn't hate you or anything if you didn't." Dave didn't want to be the cause of anything. But then again, she seemed pretty set in her decision. It was _she_ who put out the undoubtedly very expensive ad.

"It's fine, honest."

"Incidentally, how exactly did you learn to play the drums if you weren't allowed?"

"Well, actually, there's this great music store, right by my house run by this really lady named Sophie. She totally let me play on her drums, in exchange for some cleaning. She was really understanding about my mom. And there are always Lorelai's pots and pans. I mean, I always sort of wanted to play the drums. I mean, I was in jazz band. I played brass, but I was always kind of jealous and partially angry at the percussion. I mean, some of them can't even hit two cymbals together and there they are playing. I swear I got so sick of this one girl, just staring at her boyfriend the whole time! She totally missed her cue, forcing me to improvise." she paused. "Oh my god! I'm so stupid. I mean I should've thought of it earlier… I think that if I asked Sophie, _really, really_ nicely she'd let us practice in the music shop. I mean, we can't let my mom hear, but its close and it would probably be free."

"That sounds perfect. So, I'll call you to check about the music shop and we'll shoot tentatively for Friday?"

"Yes!" Dave felt a bubble of affection for Lane. Her voice matched how he felt.

"Right, I can't wait," he said. He felt pretty safe admitting his feelings just a little bit to Lane. She was the nicest person he knew, she would never make him feel stupid intentionally.

"Yeah, so I gotta go… My mom's going to be home soon."

"Wait, Lane. I need your number. So I can call you about…" he lost his train of tangible thought, "band stuff… yeah, that's it." Lane gave him her number. She was so happy. He was just so sweet and nice and willing to put up with her insane mother and he _couldn't wait_ for the next rehearsal… but no, she couldn't. She was a professional. Dave was a professional. Crush or no crush, she would play in the band and she would not let her stupid fall-for-anything-with-good-hair mentality do anything to ruin it. It didn't matter that he liked music or that he was willing to put up with her secrecy. She would not let her feelings get in the way of the band, especially before she met them.

* * *

Dave grinned as he lounged on his band. He had just written a song. It was about a girl that made a man stop in his tracks because he'd never seen anything like her before. He'd known right away that she was different. That she was special. She was like a force that made people stop and watch her.

It was a love song, and Dave had never written one of those. He'd tried, but having not been able to put his emotions into a melody, he gave up.

He didn't like most of the girls he knew. They had their makeup overdone and listened to Britney Spears. They were always so up. And Dave didn't much like heights. But she was so light. So carefree… so rock'n'roll. And it was crazy. He'd just met her. Talked to her twice, but somehow…

He slipped his mother's Bangles CD into the changer. He used to think it was really girly to listen to them, but this situation called for it. _Look at me, I'm actually listening to my mom's favorite 80s band,_ Dave thought as the song, _Eternal Flame, _poured in on all sides.

_Turn around, give me your hand, darling_

_Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same or am I only dreaming…_

The music was loud. And Dave was lying on his bed humming along. _I am so far gone._ He thought.

* * *

**A/N: That's it for this chapter. I know it kind of sucks, but I swear it will get better. This is a hard chapter to write, because it's mainly character, but as soon as I get more stuff happening, it should be better. And sorry for the Milli Vanilli reference. I think there was a reference like that in _Keg! Max,_ but honestly, I wasn't thinking about that.**

**Also, the Aunt Louise thing, I'm not sure about. I thought she could be like Dave's Luke/Lorelai figure who bugs him but just wants what's best for him too. Let me know how you feel about her, please. Also, how well did I portray Lorelai, I think I might've made her a little over the top.**

**Please Read and Review. And be honest. And give me tips.**


	3. Behind Blue Eyes

**Disclaimer: **Once again, I don't know or own anything.

**Author's note:** This chapter was difficult to write and possibly the longest I will write. (Eleven pages!) I really was out of breath, just putting myself in Lane and Dave's shoes. Please give me feedback. I've got open ears. I think a lot of Lane and Dave's relationship develops over this chapter and I hope I'm doing it right.

* * *

"You better not scare her away," Dave warned Zach and Brian, "Zach, don't you dare go on your Matchbox Twenty rant and you, Brian, don't pull out your inhaler… Just hold your freaking breath." They were assembled inside the music store. Sophie had shown them where to set up. Lane would be arriving any second now.

"Dude, you're the one with the sweater and the collar." Zach suggested. This was so typical. So not serious. Didn't they realize that if they acted weird or stupid or too emo or whatever they would freak Lane out?

"Her mom's totally against rock music and she's not gonna want to be our drummer if we suck, it'll be too much of a risk for no real return," he urgently replied.

"Don't sweat Dave, it's cool. I don't get why you're so nervous." For once, Brian seemed completely confident and genuinely looking forward to meeting her.

"Dude, I'm not so sure having a chick in the band is a good idea… I mean, what if she can't handle it?" Oh, no. She could handle it.

"Zach, we're an amateur high school band, what's there to handle?"

"All I'm saying is that chicks are high maintenance. And this one goes to church." Before Dave could reply, Lane appeared through the door. She was wearing a purple sweater and a pair of jeans. She looked really sweet in Dave's eyes. Zach mumbled, "See what I mean?" under his breath, but Dave nudged past him and bounded forward to greet Lane.

"Hi Lane! Whoa, a free rehearsal space." She beamed at him.

"Yeah. And we're lucky; Mama's in Hartford today and we can practice as loud as we want." Lane didn't seem to notice Zach's intensifying coughs, as she walked in and sat down at her drums. They were bright red. "So what do you want me to play?" She was oozing confidence and Dave was just enjoying the show. She sounded so professional.

"Before you play, why don't you come over here and meet the guys?" He offered.

"Um, okay." She stood up but promptly tripped over her stool. Dave and Brian rushed over to help.

"Are you okay?" Brian asked, pulling her up as Dave lifted her from the back. Dave was somewhat pleased to be so close to her. He immediately banished the emotion.

"I'm fine. Sorry… I tripped. When I was learning how to play the drums, I kept accidentally hitting myself in the face… and I don't know why I just told you that," she seemed a little flustered now. Her cheeks were a little flushed. She handed her drumsticks to Dave.

She smiled slightly uncomfortably and offered her hand to Brian, "You are?"

Brian wheezed a little, and said, "Brian… I play… bass." He was nervous now, Dave wondered whether Brian had ever shaken hands with a girl. She smiled graciously at him and proceeded to Zach.

She held out her hand, which he refused to take. "This is a band."

"I'm aware," she said with a smile; Dave was impressed by her sportsmanship.

"So, like, we're hardcore. And we intend to get somewhere someday. Soon," he said, "and if you're too… sweet and girly and too delicate for certain aspects of this um, band… thing, you're gonna hold us back. And we can't afford to be held back." Lane stood and listened.

"Uh. Huh," she seemed slightly uncomfortable but covered it well. Dave shot daggers with his eyes at Zach. After all, he didn't mind how sweet and girly Lane was and was sure it wouldn't hold them back. She seemed a little bit lost, looking at her hands, and turned to Dave, "So, yeah. What should I play?"

"I don't know. Any recent developments, as of yet?" he asked. He addressed Zach and Brian, "She does a great rhythm to The Clash."

"Yeah, well I just got some XTC down…" she supplied.

"XTC? As in 'We're all light?" asked Zach, in disgust, "You like mellower rock, huh?"

"I like all rock. Classic mostly," and Dave knew he would not want to be on Zach's end of the conversation, because Lane looked like she was going to kick something soon. "Drumsticks, Dave," she demanded. He quickly handed them over, slightly frightened but fascinated. She sat at her drums and said, "Brian, gimme the base notes for 'Behind Blue Eyes.' Dave start strumming." They rushed to obey. Zach just kind of stood there.

"Well… I don't know this well, but um… I'll do my best," said Brian, apologetically. She smiled, knowingly.

"Just play."

They played, a little hurriedly on the first verses. Zach awkwardly sang into the mike, to keep the time. They came to the middle of the song, at the guitar solo. She started a fierce beat, pounding down. Dave almost faltered in his playing.

"_When my fist clenches, crack it open  
Before I use it and lose my cool  
When I smile, tell me some bad news  
Before I laugh and act like a fool…" _

Dave could tell she was in her element. She was smiling and pounding and they didn't sound too bad. But it was amazing. The beat and the sound… It was so much better. He suddenly had a greater appreciation, even more than before, for the Who. And even Zach sounded okay.

"_If I swallow anything evil  
Put your finger down my throat  
If I shiver, please give me a blanket  
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat."_

The band seemed to derive greater power from the drums. The song slowed... and eventually ended. He looked around at his band members. They were equally in awe.

"Dude, Lane that rocked," Zach said, holding out his hand. She shook it, smiling.

"It definitely did," Brian concurred.

"You're in," said Dave, "well not like I didn't know that before. Just… now it's official…" She was covered in glee.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!" She hugged him. Dave hugged her back awkwardly, smiling a little too big. Brian gave him a thumbs-up sign behind her back. She was little and was easily surrounded in Dave. She smelled sweet, slightly orange-y. She awkwardly let go. She looked shy and eager to change the subject. He could feel the heat radiating from her.

She looked over at the other bandmates. Brian was examining his bass and Zach was awfully close to her drums. "Please don't touch my drums!"

Zach looked scared and stepped back. "Yes Ma'am!"

"I think you're gonna be great. Just wait, soon you'll be running us. Too bad we're a democracy," he mused, "and that drumming. It was… great. It really was." He could feel himself glowing, but she was smiling and looked like she was about to giggle.

"Away from my drums, Zach!" She marched over to her drumset.

Brian walked over. "I like her."

* * *

They played a couple more songs before Lane said she had to leave otherwise her mother would patrol the neighborhood again.

"Well I better pack my guitar," said Zach.

"Me too. With my bass, I mean," said Brian. They shrugged on out. Lane and Dave were alone. Lane surveyed the ground for a second. Dave stared at her. "So…" they both said.

"Thank you David," she said, oddly formally.

"Oh and thank you… um, Miss Kim." She smiled and grinned. "You're great. As a drummer and a bandmate." _But not anything more…_

"And you are too. A guitarist, I mean. And bandmate. So, anyway, I gotta go."

"Bye Moon." He grinned and strolled off towards the car. Lane stared off after him.

* * *

Lane grinned as she reorganized the chairs. She could barely keep herself from smiling. Lane's mother walked in and looked on in quandary as Lane hummed.

"Why are you smiling?" Lane immediately stopped smiling._ Let the interrogation begin._

"No reason, Mama."

"No boys, no candy?"

"No Mama."

"Okay." She marched out.

_I'm great_. She repeated in her mind. _I'm amazing and he likes me… His band likes me, I mean. And I'm in! I love music! I'm Moon! I love the Who, I love _Behind Blue Eyes_, and I love Keith Moon.

* * *

_

"Oh my god! Is that a tattoo, Dave?" Lane was definitely in her element. She'd just finished a grueling practice and had triumphantly mastered an amazing drum solo, which the entire band had commended her on. She was giggling and in a state she didn't usually let anyone else in on. It was like dancing.

"Yes," he said, smiling; he liked seeing her look at him like that. He lifted his sleeve up to show an electric guitar.

"Wow, that's so Rancid of you," she got up real close to see it, "When'd you get this?" _Why Lane?_ He thought._ Why must you dangle yourself in front of me?_ It was all he could do to keep himself from doing something that would make her mother sic wild animals upon him.

"I had to force him into it," said Zach, revealing his 'Rock'n'roll will save your soul,' imprint on his arm. Lane was impressed.

"Whoa, Brian do you have one?" He blushingly unveiled his Snoopy. She grinned at him, "You guys are so lucky. Why'd you get them?"

"For you, of course," said Dave, with a small smirk. She laughed.

"I don't know if I'd want a tattoo… I'd really love to dye my hair." Dave raised his eyebrows, bemusedly. He imagined it.

"I'd love to see it." He blushed a little and didn't notice Lane doing the same.

The rehearsals carried on for a week. So far they had _Fell in Love with a Girl_ by the White Stripes, _Gigantic _by the Pixies and _You Really Got Me_ by the Kinks. Dave didn't know how they could get this much done in only a week's worth rehearsals. The only issue was the inconsistency of sound. One day they could crank it up, but the next day Dave could barely hear himself, let alone the rest of the band. He didn't want to complain. After all, Lane had provided this amazing space and she was so sweet and so good for the band. But he could feel his bandmates getting restless and holding in their obvious annoyance.

This time they would be rehearsing _London Calling_, possibly Dave's favorite song from the Clash. He'd always thought this, even before he told the band they'd be practicing it and Lane burst out, "Oh my god, that's my favorite Clash song!" It was obvious… they were soul mates. _Don't think that Dave. Bandmate, not girl. Bandmate, not girl._

Despite these constant mental reminders, he couldn't place aside his feelings. He decided that it wouldn't go away, so _if _she did feel the same way… not that she would, but if she did, they would proceed. But if she didn't, he'd get over her. It was the only way. Just if she didn't like him… Well maybe he'd be able to write a good song about it. And so, he planned that today, after rehearsal, he would do something to the effect of telling her that he was, y'know, in love with her. Something along the lines. This was still new, and he couldn't ruin it completely.

* * *

God, this was so bad. Today was a soft rehearsal day and it was really impairing their playing. He'd sidled around it in the back of his mind, but now, as he watched her drum, quietly, avoiding the cymbals, it was so clear and burned on his mind. Wait, it was his cue to play. Not that he could hear it.

After a couple bars, Zach started singing. But it sounded bad.

"Whoa... You guys, it doesn't sound right," he said.

"Sounded good to me!" chimed in Lane.

"No, it's wrong. Something's missing." He glanced at Lane.

"_Yeah!_ Volume," said Zach. A little insensitively, Dave might think.

"We can't play any louder, guys."

"We've got to!" argued Zach.

"That's the agreement. Free practice space, but we have to play quietly." Actually, it was we can't play loud or her mom will hear us. But Dave wouldn't point this out. He'd rather play quietly and keep Lane in the band.

"Just try and live with it, Zach," Dave told him. He didn't like Zach yelling at Lane.

"Dude, Brian's breathing is louder than the song."

"I've got a deviated septum. All the women in my family and me have it," said Brian, so unhelpfully.

"Well it's throwing me off!"

"Hold your breath, while we're playing Brian. There. Problem solved," she said, as if this was actually a quick fix, "Okay come on now, let's rock," she looked really cute as she counted off, "1, 2, 3-"

"Wait," said Zach, god couldn't he just live with it? "The bottom line here is that breathing should not be louder than a rock band. Am I right or am I right?"

"You're right." Brian concurred. Zach glanced at Dave. He needed to unite the guys against Lane. Solidarity, man.

"Rygalski?" God, Rygalski could not side for Lane. He knew that Dave had some kind of soft spot for the chick, but this was an issue. And they were a democracy.

"Well-"

"WE NEED TO CRANK IT UP!" Zach was standing dangerously close now, and Dave was scared for his life. He knew Zach would never touch a girl, but he might hurt the guy defending her.

"Just listen harder, that'll make it sound louder," said Lane, not ready to give up.

"Can't we turn it up at all?" _Please Lane, I'm working with you here._ She seemed immovable.

"Well…" _Poor Lane, she looks like she's gonna cry_. Dave really didn't want to see that. "Maybe we could possibly, turn the amps up from 3, to say, 3 and a half, but that's it." Well Dave could go for that.

"Forget it." Zach was taking off his guitar stap and putting down his guitar. Dave could feel his perfect rehearsal getting unwound and he was sure Lane was feeling the same way too.

"Zach! Come on. We just got started!" Dave plead.

"Dude! Lawrence Welk cranked louder than this! It's a waste of time." He was getting ready to go. Lane burst out of her seat.

"Zach, no! You don't understand! We can't play louder. See, my mom has this special antenna that can pick up non-Christian music being played within a football field's distance of our house and she'd immediately come looking for me, to shield me from the perversion!" Whoa, she looked so adorable when she talked fast.

Zach turned away, and Brian said, "If Zach's going, I'm going." Lane turned to him and continued.

"Wait, no, Brian! I'm not exaggerating! Once, a guy in our town named Kirk was practicing _Bohemian Rhapsody_ with his band, the Kirk Gleason Five, and my mom shut them down so fast that the band fled without their instruments and never came back with them. To this day, Kirk can't listen to Queen without tearing up." _My god, is she bouncy…_

"Sorry," Brian said apologetically. He and Zach seemed to get how much it meant to Lane, but couldn't play under the conditions set.

"Having a free practice space was cool and all, but not like this," explained Zach, gently.

"We should just rent a space in Hartford," Brian suggested.

"Hartford. Connecticut?" She looked over at Dave, who concurred, sadly.

"It's not that far." Zach pointed out.

"Yeah, or maybe, how 'bout France? We could practice in France, too, or Iceland?" She was losing it. And they couldn't have that. Dave took her arm and started to drag her out.

"Lane…"

"The moon's probably available! We could crank it way up on the moon!"

"A word please?" He gestured one minute to the band and pushed her through the door of the music store.

She ran out into the street to get out of earshot. "Dave! Talk to them! You're the leader. That's flat-out insubordination going on in there! They should be flogged, heel-hogged, strung up from the highest yardarm!" He just watched her as she talked, waiting for it to pass through her. In the small problems he had watched Lane face, it was best to let her get it out of her system.

"You know I can't."

"Why?"

"Because we're supposed to be a one-for-all band, like the Clash or U2." He only wished he it weren't. "It's a democracy." People usually responded to the soothing voice but in this case…

"Democracies are overrated. Now get in there and kick some butt!" Lane only wanted his help. He was the only one who could defend her from the other bandmates. And Dave knew that she couldn't always stick up for herself in a group full of guys.

"That's not how it works!" God, she was beautiful.

"I'll fix Brian's deviated septum- I'll ram one of my sticks up his nose!" Okay, she couldn't get violent, especially not with Brian. Aunt Louise had called Dave the only smooth-tempered person capable of rock'n'roll, which definitely came into play here. He was calm, even in frustrating situations, which he couldn't say for Lane at the moment.

He grabbed her shoulder. "Lane! Think about this, do you really believe this is working?" She seemed calmed by his touch. She sighed and saddened.

"No… it's not working. We sound like a bunch of wankers!" she resigned, admitting defeat. She had her guard up and now, she was letting it down. In front of Dave. But he wouldn't attack her, she reminded herself.

"We need a _real_ practice space. We need to be able to really play." He gestured toward her. "Wouldn't you like to actually be able to hit both cymbals?"

"Yeah." She looked very sad. He took in her look.

"Okay then, we need to do this." She looked worse now. She let out her breath.

"I know… I just don't want to leave the band." She explained, looking tearful. This hit Dave like a ton of bricks.

"WHAT? You can't leave the band." Did she feel unwanted? "That's not what anybody wants, _especially me_." He couldn't let her do this! "Lane, listen to me- you're perfect for us, **it's _working_**!" They were both breathing very fast now. Lane couldn't leave after watching him admit that. She just couldn't. She sighed again.

"So, I have to figure out a way to rehearse in Hartford, two or three nights a week." She seemed to be convincing herself. _It's the only way I can stay in, _she reminded herself. So she could play with Dave. And the band.

"Yeah, that's not so tough," he said, soothingly. She was calm now, and it only took Dave's blood pressure rising severely.

"No, it's not so tough. And maybe, at the same time I'll attempt to master quantum physics, and throw Sanskrit in there too." At least, she was being good humored about it. She needed to do all she could to stay in the band, to keep Dave happy.

"Do your best. Not with the Sanskrit thing, that's pretty worthless," No offense or anything, "but with the band." They were quieter now.

"I'll try."

"There's no way you're gonna become our Pete Best," he said smiling at her, "there's no way." She smiled back.

"You're sweet." It was an oddly perfect moment. They were both a little anxious.

"We should get back in there," Dave reminded, returning to his senses, though he'd really rather spend his time out here, with Lane.

"Okay, um, I'll be in, in a minute." He made a face that wanted her to come in sooner as he turned to go in.

He opened the door, and heard shuffling noises of Brian and Zach running toward their seats. "Were you listening?"

"Dude, you guys were out there for like ever."

"Seriously, guys, go easy on Lane. She was considering leaving the band."

"Leaving?" Brian looked scared.

"I talked her out of it."

"So where is she?" asked Zach.

"She needs a minute," he said, "You guys were like attacking her! Who are you, anyway, Eminem?"

"Dude, it's not fair. I told you having a chick in the band was a bad idea, and what if one of us started to like her?" Dave looked very angry. "All I'm saying is that, once you're on tour, you gotta go on, whether you're screwing the drummer or not."

"Okay, listen Zach. There will be no screwing." warned Dave.

"You just wait 'til you've been on the road nine months..."

"I'm warning you, shut up Zach." Dave felt ready to punch him, even though he'd never punched another human in his life.

Luckily, just then, Lane walked through the door, because Dave would have a tough time explaining why he'd punched Zach to her.

* * *

**A/N:** That's it for this chapter! R and R please! 


	4. Rock'N'Roll Suicide

**A/N: Hey everyone. Here's the newest installment. Don't ever forget to R and R.**

**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Dave. (Or anything else pertaining to Stars Hollow and the world of Gilmore and Lane, except for Dave's family, but you can take them if you want.)

* * *

**

Dave was considerably unsuccessful in talking to Lane. He finished practice and they had their usual moment, as Zach and Brian were replacing their instruments in their car. She had been silent for most of the rest of the practice, not angry, but determined. He was worried about her. "Listen, Lane I just wanna say I'm sorry for how they freaked out like that," he said, concernedly. Lane was somewhat sarcastic and wistful in her response.

"That's Rock'n'roll, babe." She said it in a grim tone. He wasn't sure how to respond. He felt a little worried. "It's fine, Dave, really. Or it will be. Once I grow a backbone."

"There's gotta be a way. I mean, you're such a master con-artist from everything you've told me… You've seen movies, eaten pizza, watched MTV, joined a band, had a jackass- I mean boyfriend…" she smiled, as he instinctively, held her shoulder, "you've worn those beautiful clothes, might I add, as opposed to the equally nice, church dresses and sweaters, that you just don't seem to enjoy as much as I do…" Yeah, he was rambling and thoroughly embarrassing himself, letting her know that he thought about her this much, "The point is, Lane, you're great person and you're smart and I have complete faith in your mother-evading capabilities… And I didn't mean for that to sound as computer-speaky as it came out."

"No… It was an excellent rant. Thanks Dave. And I hope you're right."

"I am."

"That's so nice." Dave lifted a little; he'd been called sweet and nice in the past few hours. It wouldn't have meant anything, if it had been some random chick, but it was so amazing coming from her. He blushed and she noticed.

"Hey Lane? Um, can I, um, tell you or… um, ask you something… If you promise…" She seemed intent to listen, "Well, um…"

"DAVE! We gotta go! Mom expects me to be home before dinner. It's 7:43, Dinners at 8!" _Brian, why must you always pick the worst possible moment!_

"What did you want to say?" She was looking at him expectantly.

"Well, I, uh, wanted to tell you… that… you're a great drummer. You hold us together and we wouldn't get anywhere without you. And everyone, _especially me_, loves you. You're amazing. Don't leave." _What is with this sudden ranting thing?_ He never talked like this to anyone else.

"I won't. I mean, I can't now, can I?"

"You can't."

"Omigosh. Johnny Yune's on! Gotta run." He gazed after her. He was doing that a lot lately. He liked that she ran. He liked how her braids flew in the air as she did.

Those braids that made him lose the ability to speak and control his thoughts. Why couldn't he just say something? This was probably the last time he would see her, until he, again, worked magic and found them a killer, almost-free rehearsal space. And he hadn't told her one thing to make her remember him. Not even the fact that when she smiled at him, his stomach up-ended and would not go back up until he was safely at home listening to music. But the funny thing was that he liked it. He was calm… Well, he wasn't. But it was like, his anxieties about her and his wishing and hoping and freaking out about what she could be doing, what boys could be talking to her all day, was rooted in some intense calm. It was extremely odd. But he liked it.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Lane's hair was still wet when the phone rang. "Hello?" 

"Hi Dave!" She was in love and she knew it. She didn't mind being a little open about it.

"Hi Lane. So this practice space thing… Zach and I are going out to search for possible, affordable spaces." _Wow, he has perfect grammar. _

"Okay, cool."

"Well, I was wondering as we were searching if you had any criteria, I mean, I want you to like it." _He's so sweet._

"Um, well, I'm fine with anything… I mean, good acoustics are a must, and well, just has to be a good atmosphere, because I honestly, can't play the drums if the place reminds me of my mother…" she paused. Dave heard a distinct change in tone, "I swear, that _woman_! I love her, but I just _can't_…" She sounded so hopeless, "I mean, I want to tell her so bad about you… _guys_ and the band thing, because I know, that any other mother would be happy, like Lorelai, you know, Rory's mom, she was so happy when I told her, she just went on about Bono and stuff, but _my_ mom, she'd send me to bible camp and _pray for my soul_. You know I dyed my hair because of her?" This struck Dave's attention.

"Really, what color is it?"

"Well, black." Dave was puzzled.

"What?"

"Well, I was about to tell her about us- we, the band, I mean, and she pulled out all these applications to college that I've never heard of; Amish schools, Christian schools, Nicaragua… I don't know, I just snapped. I ran into the store and decided no way would I go for pink, so then I just grabbed the purple and Rory did it. But I had to dye it back, because well, she'd die if she saw it." She was so cute. Only Lane could possibly do this. He just wanted to make her mother see.

"So, um, how'd it look?" He wanted to have a good picture in his mind, for his inevitable dream about her.

"I've got a picture," she said.

"I'd like to see it. Bring it to the next practice. You don't have to show it to the guys… but I'd love to see it."

"Sure, but it would have a better effect if you imagined me wearing different clothes than I am, in the picture, like, you know, if I was dressed like… um, Brody Dalle, well, not too much like her, but you get my gist…"

"Okay, I'm imagining you with purple hair, dressed like Brody Dalle," Dave said as he did. Hey, and it looked _good_, "Wow, Lane. I _must_ see that picture!" Lane blushed as she heard him.

"Stop imagining." He didn't but he pressed on.

"So Lane, are any of those colleges close?"

"I don't know…" she seemed a bit worried, "Where are you going?"

"Well, I applied to Pennsylvania and Connecticut and to Berkeley… so it just depends where I get in…"

"Wait, Berkeley… _California?_ Wow… That's really far away." Dave thought about leaving Connecticut. _Damn_. He couldn't have waited until _after _he'd fallen in love to fill out his applications?

"Well, I'm probably not going to get in. And maybe you can go to some Christian school close by. I'll look it up."

"Well, um, thanks," she said, uncertainly, "Well, my mom's going to be closing soon, so um, I've gotta go. Call me when you find some place."

* * *

Two weeks later and Dave was back in _Quadrophenia_. He just loved the operatic spin of it. It soothed him, but he couldn't get his mind away from her.

He'd called Lane to tell her that they couldn't find anything. No place to practice. It sucked. They'd had some usual chitchat about a dance marathon that she had to serve sandwiches for, per her mother's request. He could just imagine her in a 20s-style outfit, dancing with some Korean guy. This sucked. The slower it took to find a practice space, the more time until he could see her again.

_Love! Reign O'er Me… Reign o'er me…_

He was depressed. He hadn't seen her in two weeks. He missed her steady drummer's hands and her bounciness. Every time he heard Keith Moon's drumming, he thought of her. That sweet little drummer girl... When he looked at the moon, he thought of her. Everytime he saw a drumset or listened to David Bowie.

_Oh Lord… I need a drink of cool, cool rain…_

The phone rang. "Hello?" Click. _Whatever._ He continued to drown in his misery.

It rang again. "Hello?" There was a pause. There was the familiar _Quadrophenia_ guitar rift. _Click._

The phone rang again after the song was over and Dave had measured the drum beats at the end of the song.

"Hello? Okay, seriously. Who is this?" He heard a shriek-like sound in the background and a loud groan. Then once more, click. He wondered whether it could be… But it couldn't.

* * *

"Oh, Davey! Why so sad?" cooed Aunt Louise. She was here for her weekly visit. His mother was cooking and Aunt Louise was buzzing and Kathy was off playing somewhere.

"What? I'm not sad…" he said.

"You're right, Louise. He's been acting strange for days," his mother said, getting the milk from the fridge.

"Why's that Dave?" asked his aunt.

"I'm not sad. This is my normal state," he retorted. He did not wish to speak with these people.

"Did you get dumped?" asked Louise, intuitively. Dave's mother looked surprised.

"Dumped? Does Dave have a girlfriend?" She seemed excited, all most giddy.

"Not anymore," said Louise.

"SHUT UP! I don't have a girlfriend and I haven't been dumped!" Louise and his mother were definitely taken aback.

"Yep… he got dumped."

* * *

_Cause I'll never see it again_

_She thinks that all is well_

_It's the perfect love story _

_Gone to hell_

_Fuck it all_

_Cuz it sucks_

_She'll never love me_

_Cuz she'll never see me again_

Well there was one thing that Dave got right. _Fuck it all cuz it sucks._ This was so pointless. His song was so depressingly emo, that he could've been sick. Emo was an acquired taste, but was nonetheless effective, Dave often did listen to it, but not openly. He was a rock'n'roll guy, not an emo guy. He listened to Bowie, not Bright Eyes. Except he listened to everything, so he couldn't really say that. But that was not the type of music he wanted to write.

And rap was out of the question.

He started over, struck a D minor chord. He did a guitar rift.

_I lost my chance_

_As she bounded away_

_She's got no reason to come my way_

_Oh lord, she's a beauty_

_And pretty damn kind_

_An independent_

_But I want her to be mine_

Now this wasn't bad. This was better.

This was it. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Lane out. It wasn't really his decision really. "The collective will of the Rygalski family," as his aunt told him at dinner. In front of his parents. It had started out with a, "Hey, what's new, Dave?" and had promptly turned into a "By the way, Dave has a _girlfriend_, I mean, drummer." He had glared over at her.

"Relax, we already know," said his father, with a chuckle and a mischievous rock'n'roll grin, "As soon as you locked yourself in your room and answered questions in grunts and fell asleep with a guitar in your hand, we knew you were pining. You're a wreck." Dave gave him an embarrassed and annoyed look. Dave's father seemed to thrive on this, "_You're a rock'n'roll suicide!_"

"Aw, no Paul! Please don't do the Bowie impression," begged his mother.

"_Oh no love you're not alone!"_ Louise laughed as his mother tried to hold in giggles. Dave was not amused. His father saw the look and stopped. "It's cool Dave, I went through the same phase with your mother. I didn't come out of my room for days, because we'd broken up that week. It's the Rygalski way."

"Oh, you should hear how she got him out of the room," said Aunt Louise, "She told him that she'd join the Go Gos if he didn't buck up and the idiot believed her! He was that hung over."

And his parents had insisted that he was a senior now and it would be good, at least for his songwriting technique, to go for it and finally commit to a girl. He'd protested. He wouldn't see her until they found a space.

"Hey, Isn't there a dance marathon in Star's Hollow this weekend?" asked Louise, with a twinkle in her eye.

* * *

Dave was in the town square. He sat on the church steps, unsure of what to do next. He decided to head by the diner. You know, mull things over. From what Lane said, she'd be stuck there for a full 24-hour-period. And now it was about 4:00 in the morning. On Saturday, he'd been tied up. He'd had to watch Kathy. Then look for spaces and he had a history final that next week. Or maybe he was just putting it off. But he'd gone to bed early and his alarm was set for 3. He promptly got up, dressed, sprayed on some cologne and grabbed his guitar. He was prepared. He was ready. And he was in love.

* * *

**A/N: Hate to leave you hanging, here, but I decided it'd be better to hold off until the next installment. That just makes it so much more worthwhile, as I don't see this ending anytime soon. This chapter wasn't as good as maybe the last one was, because it is, once again, character driven and transitional. It also has like no on-screen moments on it, as of yet. Please R and R. There is no such thing as a bad review.**


	5. Ziggy

**Disclaimer:** Once again. Don't own nothing!

* * *

Dave stood huddled in a corner, near the entrance of the studio, soaking in the music and the scene. It was really interesting, actually, the kind of thing you'd only see in a small town. There were people on medical cots, sleeping and nursing small wounds, bruises, scrapes. For a moment, he abandoned his nerves to think about how competitive these small town people were, about something as trivial as a dance marathon.

He was a bit afraid to go in, mainly because the person he feared the most in the world at this moment was in there somewhere, undoubtedly looking beautiful and polished with her hair in perfect braids and with some kind of bored look on her face. _What if she was dancing?_ He knew it was slightly unlikely because she'd revealed to him that she was terrible at it and had only really danced with one boy, her ex. Henry. He hated that name. It was so… _Hen-ry_,_ henree, HENry…_ This was not a good thing to think about.

He gazed in again. He saw a very tired looking Lane walking across the studio to a big thing of yellow stuff. _Oh yes. The sandwiches._ Personally, Dave thought that stuff that was organic was pretty cool. His mother was vegetarian, so he'd gotten used to the beef substitutes and the occasional soy milk. But eggs, he wasn't so sure.

Lane looked perfect as usual. Only more tired. He knew she had been awake for the equivalent to a day, but yet, she was still ready to dole out egg salad. Wow.

Well, it was almost 5:30. Now seemed as good a time as any. He'd dawdled enough. Actually, he'd met a guy, while strumming his guitar on the steps, who was walking around town, yes, this early in the morning, singing with a duct-taped microphone and a guitar. He'd let Dave tell him his story. He never commented on the story, but listened. He was a troubadour of some sort. Dave liked the troubadour idea, except he wasn't sure how he'd get revenue. And what Lane would think of it. _But if she liked it…_ He imagined him with his guitar on a street corner while Lane banged on a bongo drum… _Oh well, whatever, never mind._

He walked in and said, "One sandwich, please." Lane looked over at him in weary, but happy surprise. She was wearing a skirt and a shirt with buttons. "Hi!" He tiredly ambled forward, offering a shaky "hey".

"What are you doing here?" He was trying to register in his mind what he was intending to do and how the hell this was going to work, as he placed his hand on Lane's shoulder for support. As soon as he had an even footing, he let it down, while staring at the sandwiches. Looking at her face would only complicate things.

"Uh… Well, you mentioned this the last time we talked…" he started, and thank god he was good at feigning confidence, "and it sounded very… _Blue Velvet_, so I figured I would come by and check it out…" She smiled.

"What do you think?" He met her eyes.

"I think you held back." She smiled and shrugged.

"Yeah, well…" Okay, he had come here for a purpose.

"Anyhow, I hadn't seen you in a while and I thought I'd come down and maybe we could figure something out on this band issue."

"Sure, we could do that." Lane, held in her obvious disappointment. _It wasn't like he'd come to see her._

Dave internally struggled. _Oh smart Dave; you came to discuss this at five in the morning?_ Yeah, clearly this was a stupid excuse, so he opted for something more… honest, "… And plus, I missed you."

Lane was visibly stunned. "You did… you missed me." She repeated it back, not believing it. Dave was a little frightened at the lack of response. He didn't admit things like that to beautiful girls all the time, and he'd never be able to guess her reaction. He was a little sheepish and smiled embarrassedly.

"Well yeah, did you miss me?" Lane mentally kicked herself for not understanding it before. She retracted.

"Yeah definitely!" she calmed down a little and said in a more restrained fashion, "I definitely, definitely missed you." She nodded.

Dave was surprised at the enthusiastic, yet not-so-much reply, "Glad and relieved to hear it."

Lane surveyed the ground for a second. Well, now he knew how "definite" she was. He was… relieved? Lane smiled at the ground.

Just that moment, Mrs. Kim came marching forward. "Who are you? What do you want?" Dave was surprised. This was obviously Lane's mom. She was a lot more intimidating than Lane had described her as.

"Mama!" Lane was obviously scared for Dave's life.

"Do you know this boy?" Lane looked like she was going to do some really fast unconvincing babbling, as Dave came to the rescue.

"Uh, no. Actually, I just heard a bunch of people talking outside about the _sandwiches_ and I thought that I would come in and maybe try one. I'm sorry, may I?" he asked, humbly and politely. Lane looked amazed. She'd never seen anyone deflect her mother like that. Mrs. Kim smiled and handed him a sandwich. Lane and her mother watched as he took a big bite and chewed it fast. He gave them an astounded look as if he'd just taken a bite of heaven. "That's delicious."

"Really," asked Lane in bewilderment. The funny thing was that Dave actually did like it. That Mrs. Kim could _cook_. He asked for another and Mrs. Kim obliged.

"Thank you. You know my parents would _love_ these sandwiches. I wish I could bring them by, but unfortunately there in private bible study right now." Dave's dad was Jewish, but whatever. Dave knew that he obviously couldn't hope to talk to Lane right now, so he decided to let her meet up with him a little later. "Say, how long are you serving?"

Mrs. Kim looked curious, "Why?"

"Well I thought that if they got out in time, I could bring 'em over." Now Dave was lying through his teeth.

"Well, the bread is only good for another twenty minutes, after that there's no point. You chip a tooth." This lady was very thoughtful. He could see where Lane got her scheming from. Dave could definitely see a bit of Mrs. Kim in Lane. The dominating part of Lane that he saw at practices, when she was ordering Zach and Brian around.

"Okay. So if I can get my parents back here in twenty minutes, then you'll still be serving, but in thirty you're done?" He stared at Lane, willing her to understand. She'd be done in thirty minutes. He could wait. Mrs. Kim confirmed this.

"Great. So if for some reason I'm not back here in twenty minutes, that means that I'm gonna be _over there_, on the **church steps**, waiting for my parents to get out so that I can tell them about the great sandwiches that they missed. _Okay_?" Lane nodded. He would be on the church steps in thirty minutes waiting for _her _to talk about the band, "Okay, great. Thanks a lot and I hope to see you soon." He turned to leave. Thirty minutes was a good amount of time to try and figure out what to say.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Dave was found by Lane on the steps of the church. He had been focused intensely on his notebook. She walked up the stairs and sat next to him, looking at a diagram he was drawing. "Hi," she said, quietly tapping his shoulder. Dave flinched and immediately shut his notebook.

"Whoa, when'd you get here?" he was surprised that he hadn't noticed her. He'd been so deep in thought, about her, that he'd failed to notice her presence. It was insane.

"Just now," she said, "Mom's packing up and I told her I was going to find Rory… so hi." Dave looked at her. He was so afraid he was going to kiss her. She was just sitting there, all pretty, next to him and here he was sweating in places he didn't even know he had glands, his heart was beating faster and he felt like his stomach was going to fall out merely because of her presence. It was nuts too, because he'd waited all week to see her and here he was, sitting on the church steps in Stars Hollow, staring at her and he was dead scared. "Hi."

"You wanted to talk about something." She reminded him. She had been mulling it over for thirty minutes, "The band. And stuff."

"Yeah, what's your favorite Bowie album?" Lane was a little bit surprised by this question, but decided to go with it. She never imagined this. Spending time at night, well early morning, with the one object of her affection, a perfect one, who was on the same terms as she about music.

"Probably Ziggy Stardust," she said, "You know it was kinda _pre-Bowie_."

"Definitely, me too," he said. He sighed, "You know, lately it's kinda been the soundtrack to my life."

"_Really."_ Lane didn't know where he was going with this, but listened intently.

"Yeah, ever since I met you, it's been all _Ziggy _and _Quadrophenia_." He looked into her eyes. She'd never seen him like this. She could tell he was sincere but at the same time he was utterly focused. She knew he was trying to tell her something, but she didn't know what. Her affection for him welled up inside of her, though she did her best to stifle it.

"I don't understand." He stared at her hard. She almost wanted to turn away.

"I mean," he decided to let it go, "when I see you, it's like the audio department of my brain goes nuts. Suddenly, I'm hearing _Suffragette City_ on repeat. Then when I was away from you I was all _Rock'n'Roll Suicide_ and even my parents noticed. It was just weird, beyond belief. And suddenly, my calluses are open sores because I've been playing so much and I've written songs…" He stopped, "And I never rant. But now I am. And I know that if I'm just being an idiot here and you don't… you don't think that… well, the band… but more than that, **you**… well I guess, it'd be good for songwriting." There was a silence. Lane just stared at him for a moment and smiled.

"I think I get it." Dave stared at her, willing her to say something, "I've been listening to just Nico and the Velvet Underground and the Who for the past few weeks … and _Weezer._" Dave knew that only a person in love would feel compelled listen to that combination of artists, repetitively.

"Oh really?" he smiled. A wave of relief swept over the both of them. He took her hand. She stared at it as he asked, "What do you think we should do now?" She smiled at him.

"What do you think?"

"Well, I would really like to date you," he said. Lane couldn't contain herself. She draped her arms around him.

"Really?" she smiled and asked.

"That _is_ what I was trying to say all along," he said, grinning. She stopped smiling all of a sudden.

"Lane… what's wrong?" he asked. She was suddenly upset, her face screwed up, lost in thought.

"My mom… she'd never let me. And I don't want to hide it." Lane looked tearful.

"Come on, Lane," he draped his arm around her shoulder, "We'll make it work. Just, start scheming. That is, if I'm worth it."

"Of course you're worth it. You're _perfect…_ I mean, well, _you know..._ And I know if Mama knew you, she'd think so, too. I mean, she _already_ likes you."

"So she has to get to know me."

"Yeah, but Dave, are you sure? Because, we could just forget about the whole thing and we could just go back to… _playing in a band together_." Lane was making a great personal sacrifice so that Dave wouldn't have to.

"Yeah, and you know, I could just be heart broken for the rest of my life," he said, his voice ringing with sarcasm.

"But Dave…"

"No, I like your mom. I understand her," he explained.

"You… like her?" Lane was shocked. She didn't know anyone who didn't think her mother was the most deadly person on the earth.

"I'm still desperately afraid of her, but I really do want the same thing as she does," he said.

"And what's that?" Lane thought Dave must be certifiably insane or a genius.

"Well, she and I both want you to be happy. And we're both willing to kick the ass of anyone who'll get in the way. The only difference is that she'd like to kill anyone who breaks your heart, and I'd like to be the one who won't." Lane could feel her heart melt like chocolate.

"Whoa, Dave," she smiled really big. He stroked her hair. Lane bristled. No one had ever done that before. She looked straight at him as he did to her. Lane could feel herself leaning forward, as Babette's booming voice said, "Oh Laney _sweetie_! Your mother's looking for ya and I thought I'd warn you first, cuz it looked like you were gettin' pretty cozy! All you kids are just so damn cute! But ya know I gotta feeling that Rory's switchin' _studs_, if you know what I mean! But anywayz, she's cummin' this way, so you," she pointed to Dave, "better scat!" Dave didn't need telling twice. He got up and said a hurried goodbye.

Lane sighed. God was she tired.

**

* * *

A/N: I don't know about you, but I'm so glad they're finally together. It seemed like it forever. Remember to review and tell me if it was out of character or stupid or anything. I find it's easier if you imagine they're actually saying it.**


End file.
